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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28595268">(I’m Not) Running from Hurt</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ange_de_la_Mort/pseuds/Ange_de_la_Mort'>Ange_de_la_Mort</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Gore, Gen, Groundhog Day, Hallucinations, Near Death Experiences, Post-Canon, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:35:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,926</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28595268</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ange_de_la_Mort/pseuds/Ange_de_la_Mort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Isa, with his heart and conscience restored, is plagued by guilt and tries to whatever he can to make sure Radiant Garden will never fall into the darkness again, even if it means personally killing every Heartless in existence. Too bad that he runs into one that's a big too big for him to chew. </p>
<p>He ends up in a spiral of death and rebirth and the horrors inside his own heart.</p>
<p>It's a learning experience, really.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(I’m Not) Running from Hurt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the <a href="https://twitter.com/halloween_zine">Kingdom Hearts Halloween zine</a>. I had been thinking about the idea of "Isa trying to reject his own darkness and the whole thing biting him in the ass one day" for a while, but since I'd never written gore, I always felt too intimidated to even try. I'm glad I finally got the opportunity to leave my comfort zone.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Is it guilt?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Isa asks himself not for the first time as he roams the streets of Radiant Garden looking for anything that might try to destroy the city's new-found peace. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Do I feel guilty? </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wonders, although he already knows the answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course he does. Of course there are feelings of guilt that have been gnawing at his heart since he regained it and gained complete control over it. Feelings that prevent him from formally joining the Radiant Garden guard to ensure law and order and security. Too deep is the guilt, sitting somewhere in his heart like a thorny vine that spreads in his chest and wraps itself around his organs, his limbs, threatening every second to grab him so tightly that it would tear his insides apart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn't want to talk to them, even though it might do him good to socialize. He knows that himself. But he remembers all his words, all his crimes for which he does not want to look the others in the eye (they have all done terrible things, they have all murdered and either enjoyed it or were not interested in those whose lives they'd stolen). He knows that each of them deals with it in their own way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This here… this is Isa's way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is the least he can do... to make sure that nothing like this will ever happen again. And if he always patrols the same route until the end of his life, then so be it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because that's exactly what he's doing. Now and any other time. He roams the streets of the city and goes all the way down to the cliffs in search of things - creatures - that do not belong here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because the Heartless are like roaches: if you see one, there are at least about five hundred hidden somewhere, just waiting to crawl out of their holes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes, while he's on his patrol, he wonders if what he's doing is even worth it. He cannot completely defeat the Heartless. He has no Keyblade - and none of the Keybearers have felt the need to stay in Radiant Garden. Of course, sure, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sora, Riku and Kairi as well as the other three ... Terra, Aqua and Ven ... have gone back home to make up for all the lost time together. But Lea, or Axel, as he wants to continue calling himself, could have really come back home. He owes it to Radiant Garden, just like Isa does. In his opinion, at least.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But instead </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lea</span>
  </em>
  <span> lives with his new friends and doesn't care about anyone but himself. So obviously not much has changed since they got their hearts back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>... maybe he's being unfair. Maybe he's exaggerating. After all, it was that jealousy, that anger that drove the wedge between the two of them, and maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lea</span>
  </em>
  <span> just needs time before he comes home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or maybe Isa just isn't worth coming back to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That's the other reason he keeps going down that road, without a Keyblade, without any real possibility of killing the Heartless for good, if he ever were to encounter any of them: it's not only the gnawing feeling of </span>
  <em>
    <span>guilt</span>
  </em>
  <span> that weighs so heavily on him, but also the haunting need to show that he's changed, that he's worth liking, worth having friends again ... worthy of not being lonely anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least he's not completely unarmed, because if there's one thing he's learned during his time in the Organization, it's that the Heartless can be driven away for a while if one knocks their head off their shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a sigh he trudges his way to the beach and the cliffs, an iron sword attached to his belt (another reason to be jealous of a Keyblade. It would be a great advantage to be able to make his weapon appear out of nowhere instead of dragging it around with him), the weight almost soothing. He's on lookout, keeping watch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And when, after all these weeks, he finally spots a black unknown shadow scurrying down the cliffs, he almost feels sick with anticipation of actually being useful, of finally being able to hunt and kill (almost like an instinct he has to follow). At first it takes his breath away and he creeps closer to the edge of the cliff to make sure that his eyes are not just playing a prank on him, a stupid hallucination born out of hope.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But indeed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is a Heartless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>... a Heartless mushroom?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Never mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa grabs the sword with one hand and sets off.<br/><br/></span>
  <span>_<br/><br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He follows the Heartless down the cliffs and through the gorge leading to the ruins at the other end of Radiant Garden, to the great building that has never been a real castle, although some have always called it that. Arriving at the bottom of the stairs, Isa stops for a moment and looks up at the facade of the structure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He used to spend many hours here as well when he and Lea started their work as apprentices. Together they sat at the tables in the library and imagined what life would be like once the three of them - Isa, Lea and the mysterious girl - had left the city. It was here where they spent their time imagining a happy future, while actually, with each passing hour, they became more and more immersed in their own darkness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now ... it seems that this very place is nothing more than a remnant of the fall into that very darkness, abandoned and rotted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he walks across the stone floor, his sword drawn and his eyes open so as not to be surprised by more of the Heartless, Isa wonders if the people of the city will one day rebuild this place. Maybe Ansem's books are worth the work and effort, or maybe most of it is stored in the central computer anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The white double-wing entrance door is left open slightly. Isa can stick his head inside, let his gaze wander over the large, round entrance hall ... hey! There, in front of the fountain! The Heartless!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As quietly as he can, Isa sneaks inside the former library.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One step. Another one. Until he stands behind the Heartless, which doesn't seem to notice him, swinging its head and hips in almost hypnotic movements.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He raises the sword, its reflection sparkling in the water ...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>... and even as he lets the sword rush down on the Heartless, he is aware that he has made a mistake, because the creature transforms into a stone statue before his eyes. Isa's sword strikes hard at the stone and breaks in two with a horrible sound. The blade lands clattering on the ground, the handle still in Isa's hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck. Fuck, fuck, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa's fingers clasp the broken sword tighter. It is his lifeline that makes him not completely defenseless, no matter how useless it may be now. He has to think of something - quickly! He has to-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Heartless returns to its state of flesh and blood and bones - or whatever Heartless are made from -, and as it transforms, it emits a creepy purple fog that surrounds Isa in an impenetrable cloud.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fog burns in his lungs and throat, making him cough and gag until his vision blurs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He staggers backwards, feet heavy as lead, hands unable to hold the broken sword any longer. It slips from his fingers and lands next to the blade on the floor with a subdued metallic sound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa shortly follows, vision going black.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>___</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he slowly opens his eyes (vision still blurry at the edges), he finds himself lying on the floor, face down. For a moment, his limbs disobey him, and the budding panic - or perhaps the effort - makes him sweat, but slowly he manages to move his body and get up on all fours.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breath is heavy, and as he turns his head to look for the Heartless, everything starts spinning again. It takes a few more moments, which seem like hours, before he finally manages to stand on shaky legs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is no trace of the Heartless to be seen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa curses very quietly and wipes the sweat from his forehead with a trembling hand. Where could it have gone? Further inside the old library? Or did it flee outside?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His gaze is drawn upwards to one of the many stained glass windows that bathe the entrance hall in a dim and colorful twilight. It's getting late ... maybe he should call off the hunt and return the next morning. With support.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs softly. As much as he doesn't like it, he can't do much now anyway - he can't very well beat the Heartless with his bare fists when he finds it, even if it would deserve it. Because he can do without one more dose of this strange mist - gas? Poison?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's bad enough that he collapsed once. A repetition is not necessary.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So it's decided: go outside, sleep on it for a night, maybe (just maybe!) call Lea tomorrow and hunt down the Heartless together. That would make more sense, too, because with his sword or any other weapon he could spontaneously find, he would only be able to temporarily destroy the Heartless, since only a Keyblade can release the heart that is trapped inside. And until that is done, the Heartless will spawn again and again and again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least that's what Xemnas told them... but Xemnas lied about many things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps he will ask Even about it, he thinks as he slowly moves towards the large entrance door, one step at a time. To his displeasure, the door seems to have fallen shut. He sighs softly and reaches for the door handle, his fingers touch cold metal, clutching it, and when he finally pulls on it with a violent jerk, an ugly, groaning, sound is heard, the sound of old, rusty metal that no one has cared about for years, and the handle breaks off, as unspectacularly as his sword was broken before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa stares incredulously at the handle in his hand (if someone were to take a photo of him now, he would certainly look hilarious), and then blinks, once, twice, before his gaze wanders to the still-closed door. "You've </span>
  <em>
    <span>got</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be kidding me," he mutters, frozen in place for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then the rage rises in him, hot and shameful, the shame of his failure - it was just </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> damned Heartless after all! - and he hurls the door handle to the ground with full force. The metal clatter echoes on the high walls, loud and definitive in the otherwise prevailing silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Isa thinks and puts his hand in his pocket, pulls out his Gummiphone to swallow his pride and call for help. Too bad his phone has no reception.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A phone that can connect between the different worlds suddenly has no reception just because it is hanging around at the furthest corner of Radiant Garden?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If this really is a joke, it is not a very good one ...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Fine," Isa finally mumbles, because it is too quiet around him. The sound of his own voice is soothing, making him feel less alone and abandoned. With a last glance up at the stained glass windows, he makes his way deeper into the library ... because if he doesn't want to spend the night here, he has to hurry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Outside, the sun is setting. And in the dark there is always danger lurking in every shadow ...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>___</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"A lift?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can't remember that the library has ever had a lift. Too clear is the memory of dozens of flights of stairs that he climbed and descended several times a day. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks,</span>
  <em>
    <span> this is a remnant from the time when Radiant Garden fell into darkness.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even if the thought of the Heartless being too lazy to climb stairs seems almost ridiculous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shaking his head, he enters the floating platform and places his hand on one of the two shining crystals.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lift moves downwards.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>___</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The basement ... yes, he remembers it. The library has its own sewer system, he and Lea found that out at some point (after they became apprentices, of course, anything else would have been too nice. Otherwise they could have sneaked in and collected information at any time). This could be his salvation, his escape route, because a sewerage system always means that there must be a way out somewhere into the next river or into the sea. ... what goes in must come out again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he can't remember that it has ever been so convoluted in this area ...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a quiet sigh he takes his phone out of his pocket - if he can't call anyone, it should at least serve him as a flashlight. The faint cone of light illuminates the pitch-black corridors at least to the extent that Isa won't trip over his own feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly he makes his way through the flooded corridors, the water seeping into his shoes and allowing dampness and cold to invade his limbs. The small hairs on the back of his neck continue to stand up with every step he takes. It is unpleasant not to be able to see everything around him, relying on the cone of light. He already has the illusion of hearing a hoarse gasp around every corner, of feeling a presence that shows him that he is not alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course this is nonsense.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The library is abandoned, and since the residents have returned to Radiant Garden, no one has bothered to repopulate the place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A rat scurries across his feet, and in the cone of light its shadow appears almost as big as a man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa curses and flinches, his phone almost falls out of his hand in shock. His heart beats up to his throat as the rat's quiet whimper echoes through the sewers. "Don't get paranoid now," he whispers to himself, uncertain as to why he lowers his voice at all, and yet unable to find it in himself to be loud and ... careless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It still feels as if invisible eyes are following him, observing his every step from out of the darkness. He shivers. The goosebumps on his arms are certainly not only from the cold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He feels watched.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like something is peeking around the corners outside his field of vision. Like there is something coming closer, hot breath ghosting over the back of his neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Stop freaking out!" he chides himself again. "There's nothing here!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And for a short time he can even convince himself. But only until the weak light of the phone brushes against something for a fraction of a second that is definitely not </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And certainly not a rat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is a shadow that seems to stand out from the other shadows, black in grey in black, except for the faint sparkle of something Isa thinks is eyes. Or teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Against his better knowledge he swings the light cone around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He regrets it immediately.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In one of the shadows lurks a beast. A giant, not wolf, not man, not Heartless, covered in dark fur with far too many razor.sharp teeth and glowing yellow eyes. Even though it seems to be crouching on all fours, it's already taller than Isa.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Run</span>
  </em>
  <span>! he thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Run</span>
  </em>
  <span>!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His legs won't move. His eyes are glued to the creature, to the giant maw and and claws, and only when it grows lowly as it takes one step towards him does his body remember its vital functions and he turns on his heel to escape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Under his feet the water splashes up as he runs around corners breathlessly and without thinking about it. But where to anyway? Will he get back to the elevator in time?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In which direction was the elevator again?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His foot bumps against something - a protruding edge? A stone? A pipe? - and he loses his balance. For a moment he feels as if he were floating in the air, as if everything around him was happening in slow motion: Water drops splash in all directions, a choked sound escapes his throat, somewhere a rat screeches.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he hits the floor face first, the air is pressed out of his lungs, he bruises his elbows and knees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Behind him the sounds get louder, hoarse breathing slowly approaching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's going to die here. He's going to die without ever having redeemed himself in his own eyes. He's never going to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A creaking door opens only a few meters in front of him (where does a door suddenly come from?).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"This way!" someone calls, the voice of a boy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa gets up on his knees and then on his legs, gritting his teeth as he pushes his aching limbs to move, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurry</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn't want to die here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa slams the door shut behind him and fumbles for the key with shaking fingers, only relieved when he hears the soft 'click' of a lock doing its job. He allows himself a soft sigh and leans his forehead against the cool wood of the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks, kid," he murmurs, and when he doesn't get an answer, he lifts his head questioningly, trying to recognize something in the blackness of the room. In vain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wants to get his phone out of his pocket, then he remembers that he was just holding it in his hand. ... he must have dropped it when he fell on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, he's </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> not going out to look for it now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His heart is still beating up to his throat. Blood and adrenaline are pumping through his veins. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What was that thing anyway?</span>
  </em>
  <span> he asks himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Some kind of mutated wolf? Something that survived the fall into the darkness - or that was born from it?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever it is, he has no need to find out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And while he is still finishing this thought - how could it be otherwise - it seems as if he has brought disaster upon himself, because at this very moment a giant, clawed paw cuts through the wood, leaving a series of scratch marks that let the dim light of the sewers into the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa screams. He retreats in the dark until he can press himself against the opposite wall, hoping that it won't see him, that it will just go away again, that it will </span>
  <em>
    <span>drop dead and leave him alone.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is not that lucky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The creature bores its claws into the wood once more, tears out more pieces, until it finally steps into the door frame.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is so huge that it blocks the entire frame and the weak light from outside has no chance to enter the room. All that Isa sees as he crouches deeper into the darkness are unnatural yellow eyes that intelligently - knowingly - penetrate the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He clasps a hand over his mouth in a desperate attempt not to make a sound that might betray his position - but it's already too late.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The huge creature stomps into the room, one step, then another, then it rears up and stands on its hind legs. A bloodcurdling roar escapes its maw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the darkness Isa sees razor-sharp teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then these giant claws are digging into the flesh of his chest, forcing their way through the too-tight gaps between his ribs, before he realizes it, before he can react in any way, tearing through his clothes, through sinews and bones and flesh like a hot knife through butter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Someone screams.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa hardly notices that the scream is his. The pain is unlike anything he's ever felt before, hot and burning and tearing his insides apart. Weakly, he swats at the creature, trying in vain to make it let go of him as it pulls him outside, his legs uselessly dragging across the floor behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something spills over his lips and at first Isa thinks he threw up in agony, but in the light of his phone glowing dimly on the floor he sees blood running down his chin and dripping onto his already blood-stained jacket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His vision blurs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With his last strength he lifts his gaze and stares into the beast's disgusting face.. And with his dying breath, he whispers: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because his eyes must be deceiving him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because the creature bears an x-shaped scar across his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It looks a lot like him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>___</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa wakes up with a scream. His hands tremble as he touches his neck, his chest, his stomach. No wounds...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He forces himself to breathe deeply. A dream. Just a dream. Nothing else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly he gets up and looks around, realizes that he is still - again? - in the entrance hall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He needs to get out of here. Quickly. He feels like he's getting crazier with every second he stays in this building.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To his horror, he realizes that the door still - again? - cannot be opened, the door handle right where he had thrown it on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa lets his shoulders droop and presses his lips together, pushing his weight against the door in a last desperate attempt to open it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine. I guess I'm still trapped. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It's not exactly a thought that excites him, but what else can he do about it but look for another way out?</span>
  <em>
    <span> Maybe I can smash a window on a higher floor.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>___</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he gets out of the lift, he sighs softly and lets his arms dangle at his sides to drive the pent-up tension out of his limbs. Not a monster in sight. Just a long corridor stretching out in front of him, something Isa had never seen in this library before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carefully, he takes a step forward. The elevator platform remains in place much to his relief. An escape route that is still open to him, if necessary.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>... hopefully it will not be necessary.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are doors on both sides of the corridor, five, ten, twenty. All of them locked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa grinds his teeth as he pushes down what feels like a hundredth door handle, shakes and pulls on it, only to discover that this door, too, doesn't budge an inch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That almost reminds me of those nightmares I had as a kid</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks. The embarrassing ones, where he was sitting at school without his pants on, looking for a place to hide before the school bell would ring and his classmates would flood the hall and laugh at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only now he is twenty years older, and this is not a nightmare. At least not like any of those he's known. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It would be nice, though. Then I could just wake up.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But this way, he is forced to keep rattling door knobs and cursing softly, while the bright light of the neon tubes above him on the ceiling starts flickering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hand rests on the door handle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The light slowly fades.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pushes the handle down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The light goes out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is pitch-black.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa curses and rattles the door handle once more. ... what now? Turn around and return to the lift? But there is only the way back to the entrance hall, or ... the way further down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the other end of the corridor Isa can see a faint light. An exit? A window? An open door? ... the corridor has an end? Well, sure, of course it has an end, otherwise it would be a structural disaster, but if it hadn't, it almost wouldn't surprise him either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he slowly makes his way, fumbling along the smooth, chilly wall until the light comes closer and closer and Isa can actually see a door that is open a crack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carefully, he puts his hand on the wood and pushes it open a little further.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He instantly wishes he hadn't.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The beast is waiting for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the light of the ceiling lamp, it looks a lot creepier than before: The yellow eyes are glowing and the scar, the X on its face is almost pulsating. Only now Isa can see that its fur is not black or gray - the fur is almost midnight blue, and the teeth ...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With every second that Isa pauses here, holding his breath in the stupid hope that it hasn't seen him yet, its teeth grow longer. Sharper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blood drips from its claws to the ground, the soft, rhythmic sound as loud as roaring thunder to his ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It can't be, but ... for some reason he is sure that this is his own blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has to get out of here! Slowly he takes a step backwards. Then another one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door creaks softly and swings wide open on its own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The beast raises its head and stares at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And just as Isa tries to turn around and flee, it’s already with him, above him. The yellow eyes look at him almost wistfully as the sharp claws pierce the flesh of his cheeks, sending a rush of blood into his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa's knees give in, the pain threatening to overwhelm him. All that keeps him upright is the huge paw clutching his chin - it’s slowly dragging it down, as if to tear his face in half. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A scream escapes his lips, a gurgling, metallic sound. Blood gushes down his throat and his voice is being strangled by it blocking up his windpipe. He wants to cough, but the pain and the terror of those glowing yellow eyes paralyze him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a wet smacking and the horrible sound of breaking bones, his lower jaw detaches from the rest of his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>___</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa wakes up with a whimper, hands flying to his face, touching carefully where his jaw has been, should be, </span>
  <em>
    <span>still is, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and then he lets out a shaky breath of relief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A nightmare ... this must be a nightmare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then why doesn't he wake up? Why is he still here? Why can't he just leave this place whenever he dies in this strange and horrible dream?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe it's real.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe it's his punishment for all the crimes he committed, for all the lives he took as a Nobody.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa forces himself to take a deep breath. But if it's real, then there must be a way out, right? Maybe he's just done everything the wrong way so far. Maybe the solution is ... to just not do anything at all. To wait and hope for people he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> trust, has trusted before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>... it's worth a try. It's not as if there are still too many possibilities open to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he sighs quietly and decides to wait. Which in the end means that he doesn't manage sitting still, that he roams from one end of the room to the other like a caged animal, surveying his prison and testing the limits of his freedom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly the sun sets, dark shadows are cast on the high walls, where they seem to dance grotesquely in the twilight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa looks at his phone. Still no reception.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shadows grow darker and darker, bigger and </span>
  <em>
    <span>nastier</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Every sound makes him flinch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something growls behind him, and as Isa turns around hastily, his eyes widening in panic, one shadow stands out from the others.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One with yellow eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And huge teeth that mercilessly dig into his body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>___</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa wakes up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t want to wake up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not a nightmare,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thinks as he opens his eyes to the sight of the same round room, the same entrance hall of the same former library. By now he knows the placement of every pillar, every vase, every crack in the wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is hell. Some kind of purgatory for all my actions. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But why him? Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> him? What about the others, why are </span>
  <em>
    <span>they</span>
  </em>
  <span> not suffering? What about Lea, who came out of this with the rewards of a Keyblade, friends and being seen as a hero? Jealousy gnaws at his insides, bitter bile rises in his throat. Why is he the only one being punished?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He forces himself to take a deep breath and slowly rises to his feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He needs to get out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He</span>
  <em>
    <span> needs to get out!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a snarl, he slams his hands against the entrance door, he pulls and tugs and hits it with his fists, then he throws himself against the door with all his weight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The noises that escape his throat sounds almost inhuman in his own ears; a throaty roar that at some point turns into a wordless scream, until after what feels like hours his voice fails him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tears trickle down his cheeks as he sobs and falls to his knees, his clenched fists still drumming weakly against the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Let me </span>
  <em>
    <span>out</span>
  </em>
  <span>," he whimpers, a choked and broken sound. "Please let me out!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The only answer he gets is a greedy growl behind him, hot breath brushing across the back of his neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he dies this time, arms and legs ripped off his body as if he were nothing more than a ragdoll, the tears haven't even had the time to dry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>___</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Isa wakes up this time, it feels like someone is holding his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't open your eyes."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is so shocked, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>grateful</span>
  </em>
  <span> not to be alone anymore that he reflexively does it anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The gentle pressure of warm fingers disappears immediately, and Isa fears that he just imagined the voice. Because of course he is alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wait!" he says urgently, heart pounding in his chest, grasping for the faintest remnants of help and safety and </span>
  <em>
    <span>comfort</span>
  </em>
  <span>. "Don't go! Please! ... please." His voice becomes quieter, almost a whisper, a sound without any power, as his only hope of rescue disappears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly he lets the hand he reached out for the voice with drop, just like his shoulders. It's no use. He must have imagined this presence of another person. In his imagination, his fantasy, his fear ...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His throat tightens, as if a merciless hand were wrapped around it, pressing the last bit of hope out of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And when he hears the now familiar soft growl in the room, he already knows what fate awaits him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>___</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>When Isa wakes up this time, he squeezes his eyes shut so tightly that colorful dots dance in front of his vision.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Please come back," he whispers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something nudges his foot, and for a fraction of a second he finds new hope, new courage. Then, however, he hears the distinct, throaty growl the beast lets out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a tired smile he opens his eyes. "I wasn't talking to </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>," he says the moment it begins to tear his chest apart and expose his beating heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>___</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>Isa wakes up with hot saliva dripping onto his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He decides not to open his eyes at all.<br/><br/></span>
  <span>___</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>This time Isa awakens with a scream.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He dies before the sound has even reached his own ears.<br/><br/></span>
  <span>___<br/><br/><br/></span>
  <span>When Isa awakens this time, he rolls over to his side and sighs softly. He can't do this for much longer. No ... he can't do this anymore at all. He just can't. He-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hears the sound of footsteps behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa flinches and squeezes his eyes shut as hard as he can (/Don't go! Not this time!/).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A warm hand rests on his shoulder. "Don't turn around. Can you do that for me?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In response, Isa just nods hastily. "Are you here to help me?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm trying. I've been trying the whole time. I tried to warn you earlier, but he was so strong that he made me disappear."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He? Disappear?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy doesn't listen to him. "You've been doing it wrong, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>got</span>
  </em>
  <span> it all wrong, the whole time. You can't fight him."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I noticed," he grunts darkly. "And I can't run away, either."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No. You can only accept him."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Accept dying over and over again? Are you insane?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, but you will soon be if you don't leave this place."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm trying! I'm... I ... " He grits his teeth, forces himself to breathe deeply. "What do I have to do?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You need to accept him," the boy repeats gently. "After all, he's you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa flinches as if hit by a blow. His eyes snap open and he can hardly resist turning around and asking the child if it's lost its mind. "What?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's you. Your darkness. The part of you that you hate, that you fear and try to hide from, but that will never go away. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to let him in your heart to be whole again. And to heal. You</span>
  <em>
    <span> have to</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"... how would you know?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy laughs. "Really? You're so silly. I'm you, too. The part that you've almost forgotten, that's why I'm so weak so you can't even look at me. I'm your light."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa wants to say something, wants to disagree. But then he hears the growl and sees the beast treading towards him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It looks down at him almost exhausted, the eyes still torn open to glowing circles, but with a tired gleam behind them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's tired," the boy says softly. "He wants to be part of you again."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't want it!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But he's you. You can't move on when you're still broken."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The beast bares its sharp teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We're all tired, Isa. Let us go home. Together."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While Isa struggles with himself, the beast tilts its head to one side, almost begging, pleading.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't worry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, Isa reaches out a hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll be with you. You're not alone."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the moment his hand touches the thick fur, the beast growls again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then it attacks him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But when he dies this time, he turns his head to the side and sees the warm smile of the boy he has once been.<br/><br/></span>
  <span>___</span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he opens his eyes this time, in the sad, exhausted certainty of once again experiencing the infernal cycle of pain and fear and death, he faces neither, to his great amazement, the endlessly high ceiling of the entrance hall, nor the disfigured, distorted grimace of his own darkness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, Lea has leaned over him. Isa can see worry lines on his forehead, his green eyes narrowed, his mouth a thin line. When he notices that Isa seems to be responsive, his eyes widen and he sighs with relief. "Fuck you, you scared the shit out of me!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What...?" Isa's throat feels dry, his tongue sticks to his palate and his mouth tastes as if an animal had died in it. But at least he doesn't taste blood this time. "What happened?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, according to Aeleus, he and Dilan saw you run after a Heartless like a hounddog." Lea sighs softly. "And when they didn't see you return, they called me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shame comes crashing over Isa like a tidal wave. His fingers dig into the blanket that has been thrown over him, twisting the fabric in his grasp. Lea has had to save him </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Has probably dragged his sorry and unconscious ass out of the castle ruins while slaying that mushroom Heartless all by himself. One more time, Isa has proven to be nothing more than a useless remnant of the past, one Lea simply didn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare</span>
  </em>
  <span> to throw away and leave him there. One that-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, are you even listening?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa takes a shaky breath and slowly shakes his head. "Not really," he admits weakly. "What did you say?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lea sighs excessively and rolls his eyes. "I </span>
  <em>
    <span>said</span>
  </em>
  <span> you're an idiot."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah, so nothing I haven't heard a thousand times already." He tries to smile, but it feels just as wrong as it must look for Lea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I mean it." Lea looks at him seriously and then puts a hand on his shoulder while Isa slowly tries to sit up in the bed he somehow ended up in (in vain). "You should have called."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A soft sigh comes over his lips. "Lea, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> Heartless."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"One that really wrecked your shit," Lea adds. "You were out for an entire day!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Isa slowly turns his head to look out of the small window on the other side of the room, he actually realizes that the sun is set high in the sky. "I was unconscious for twenty-four hours?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> think the beefy dudes standing guard would have called me if you'd only been missing for five minutes?" Again Lea rolls his eyes, but this time he smiles weakly. "And here I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa scoffs and crosses his arms in front of his chest (that feels tight with anxiety and worry, but that's miraculously unharmed), then frowns. "What happened to the Heartless?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What do you think?" Lea points a thumb at his chest and grins. "Your friendly neighbourhood Keybearer took it out, of course!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course," Isa mumbles and sighs again. And after a short moment of hesitation he gathers all his courage and says something that has been on his mind for weeks, months, but which he has swallowed again and again because he kept being embarrassed: "I hate you for that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You hate me in general." Lea laughs softly, but it sounds hollow and false, and finally he averts his gaze a little. "For what exactly this time?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You ..." It is difficult for him to summarize the thoughts clearly and understandably, not to just ramble like a madman. Isa hesitates, tasting the words on his tongue. And then says: "I hate that you got lucky." At Lea's confused look he takes another deep breath. "You got out of everything without any ... consequences." It's not just the scar he's talking about. It's also the nightmares, the guilt, the feeling of utter loneliness. "You got friends, and a Keyblade, and you're one of the heroes now."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You have friends, too, you idiot! You have me!" Isa simply looks at him wearily and Lea shakes his head slowly. “I can’t believe you’re … jealous of me. It’s always been the other way around,” he adds surprisingly seriously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Lea shrugs. “You were the smart one, the one with the great ideas. The one who didn’t run into danger head-on, but took the time to think about the pros and cons.” He shrugs once more. “I guess things change.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I can’t help but wonder what made us change like that. You know? If it was … losing our hearts that changed part of us. Or if that’s just what happens when you grow up.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Things were easier back then. Maybe that’s the thing about life. That we couldn’t wait to be grown-ups when we were young, and now we kinda wanna go back to being kids.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sounds almost deep. Especially coming from you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lea laughs and flashes a grin. “Well, I’m a Keybearer now, I gotta be responsible, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In response to Isa's monosyllabic answer, Lea raises his brows and tilts his head. "Don't tell me you really </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> hung up about that?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, of course not, I just said I was jealous to prank you." Isa rolls his eyes and averts his gaze. In his mind's eye he sees the creature that reflects the deepest, darkest part of his soul, and he can't help but wonder if that </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> what makes him different from Lea. Perhaps Lea has no such monster within him. If that's true, is that why the Keyblade chose him? Because he has the purer heart?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa's fingers cling to the blanket. If he'd had a Keyblade, he could have defeated the darkness in his heart in this feverish dream. Then he would not have been alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You're so silly.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa flinches. That voice ...! It is the voice of the boy he heard in his dream, his own voice from the past!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You're not alone.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Is it real? Or a memory of the dream? ... if it was a dream at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We're with you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he hears, and at the same time he also hears Lea, who is saying his name with concern.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That's right.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His fingers loosen their grip on the sheet.</span>
  <em>
    <span> There isn't only darkness inside me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a touch of childlike curiosity, the likes of which he has not felt in ten years, he slowly raises his right hand, not paying attention to Lea's baffled face, but concentrating exclusively on the feeling of warmth until it floods him like a nap in the midday sun, like hot tea on a winter morning. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What did Lea once say? He just ... flicked his wrist.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm with you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he hears in his thoughts, as a beam of light begins to buzz and flicker before his eyes, and individual particles of air assemble into a form. Almost desperately and much too hastily he reaches for it, fearing that the light might dissolve, and for a split second he feels the weight of a sword handle between his fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then the light vanishes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa sighs softly and lets his hand sink. "Did you see that?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What? You trying to slap my cheek in slow motion?" Lea shakes his head. "Guess you're still kinda out of it, buddy."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hmm." He imagines hearing a warm laugh, and out of the corner of his eye he sees the transparent figure of the boy sitting on the arms of the equally transparent beast, conspiratorially putting a finger to his lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isa smiles quietly. For the first time in a while, he's not afraid anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because the darkness is a part of him, and because even in the deepest darkness there is a bright light shining inside his heart to lead the way.</span>
</p>
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